PONDERED IN HER HEART
Numbers 6: 22-27; Galatians 4: 4-7; Luke 2: 16-21
Did you ever see the movie, “The Natural?” It’s one of my favorites. The 1984 film stars Robert Redford as Roy Hobbs, a baseball prodigy, a “natural,” whose career is sidetracked when he’s shot by a woman whose motivation remains mysterious. Most of the story concerns itself with his attempts to, not only return to baseball later in life, but to become the best player the game has ever known when he plays for the fictional New York Knights with his legendary bat, “Wonderboy.” When I saw it when it was first released (at what used to be called Cinema 10), I remember remaining in my seat as they ran the credits, thinking to myself: “What a great movie! It had everything you could want from a sports story: greed, sex, betrayal, and a whole lotta baseball. But what the heck did it mean?” I realized there was a deeper meaning to the story that I just wasn’t getting, and I sat there long after the other movie-goers left the theater trying to figure it out. But for a long time, its meaning remained a mystery to me. When it was released on home video, I bought a copy and watched it several more times, still groping to figure out what the movie was really trying to say. Finally I got it! And I decided it was a perfect movie to show to my junior morality class at Bergen Catholic. After I did, I explained to them that Roy Hobbs was a symbol of Everyman and that the movie was a metaphor for man’s struggle with good and evil. I pointed out how the director used light and dark to help get this across, that the movie’s title didn’t just speak about Roy’s natural abilities, but the natural state of man, and that the dramatic conclusion of the movie was meant to convey the ultimate triumph of grace against sin, good vs evil. When I finished, I asked my class for their reaction. They stared back at me in silence. Were they as moved as I at the movie? Had I just given the lesson of my life and they sat there speechless in rapt awe? Finally, one of my students raised his hand. He was the smartest student in the class and I was anxious to hear what his insight might be. I said, “So what do you think, Chris?” Chris responded, “Deac . . . It’s a movie about baseball!” I looked around to the other members of the class, and they nodded their head in affirmation. – It was just a movie about baseball. Well, thank goodness, the bell rang signaling the end of class or my students would have seen a grown man cry. They didn’t get it. They didn’t see what I saw. This was far more than just a movie about baseball.
My struggle to find the meaning behind the movie “The Natural” is what Mary did with all the experiences of her life. In today’s Gospel, we hear that Mary reflected in her heart the story of all the shepherds had seen and heard. The thing is, she did more than that. Sometimes our English translation of Scripture does a poor job at getting across the precise meaning of the original Greek. And today’s passage is one such example. More on the mark than reflected, the meaning of the original Greek text is better translated pondered. To ponder is “to consider, to weigh, to hold in balance.” It means to think about something carefully in your head - to weigh it in your mind. It implies a serious process of mental activity – a careful consideration of all the factors involved. But for Mary, it doesn’t stop there. She ponders it in her heart. And so, there’s an important emotional and spiritual overlay to this process. To ponder in our heart is to try to feel it out as well as to think it out: to discern what its meaning is, and to allow it to change our life. I don't think that Mary pondered the great mysteries of faith. I think she pondered in her heart the events of her life and tried to discover the presence of God in them, We need to do the same.
We get the sense in Luke’s Gospel that this sort of internalization was the pattern of Mary’s life. Three times within the first two chapters of Luke’s Gospel we’re told that Mary does this. In addition to what we heard this morning, we’re told that she pondered the angel Gabriel’s words to her, “Hail Mary, full of grace! The Lord is with you” and what such a greeting might mean. We’re also told that twelve years later, after searching for Jesus for three days and finding him in the Temple sitting amidst the teachers, listing to them and asking them questions, Mary and Joseph returned home to Nazareth where she “treasured all these things in her heart.” Luke should know. Catholic tradition tells us that after he was converted by St. Paul, he traveled to Israel to “investigate everything accurately anew,” and that this quest brought him to Mary herself and that he based the Infancy Narrative of his Gospel on that interview. And I’m sure it’s not a stretch of the imagination that there were thirty-three years worth of words and memories that Mary took to heart, pondered, discerned, and sought to discovered the hand of God in, even the death of her Son on the cross.
I’m wondering this weekend, this New Year’s weekend, what memories of 2016 are you and I are keeping, storing, holding in our hearts? Was 2016 a good year or a hard year? a happy year or a sad year? A healthy year or a year of sickness? Was it a year of gain or a year of loss? A year of pain or a year of peace? Did the year seem to fly by or did it creep at a snail’s pace?
My physical heart has only four chambers but my soul’s heart has many more than four. With what memories has last year filled the chambers of my heart? Am I keeping some hurtful memories alongside some happier ones? Am I holding on to some resentments and grudges or have I filled some chambers with forgiveness, with peace-finally-made?
Is there a chamber in my heart now empty because I’ve lost someone or a relationship ended? Have I locked up that empty place - or left it open, waiting for it to be filled with consolation and healing, with fresh affection?
In the past year did my heart expand to accommodate everything that came my way, peace and pain alike? Did my heart enlarge to welcome God’s grace in my joys and his gentle touch upon my grief?
In 2016 did I turn to the Jesus living in my heart: to lean on his strength in my weakness, to depend on his counsel in my doubt, to seek his wisdom in my confusion, to reach for his companionship in my loneliness?
Mary would come, eventually, to keep in her heart not only joyful recollections of Jesus’ birth but also the painful memories of his suffering and death. And so it is with us, too. Our hearts are the storehouses of all that has shaped us to be the persons we have become, and our hearts are the Lord’s dwelling place where he wants to forgive our sins, heal our wounds, calm our fears and give us the peace that comes only from his heart, from his hand.
And so, on this Solemnity of Mary, the Mother of God, as we’re presented with the example our Blessed Mother, let’s not make this New Year’s Weekend just an experience of Auld Lang Syne. Let’s not just reflect on the events of the past year, Let’s PONDER them . . . ponder them in our heart. Let’s connect the dots, see their deeper meanings, and realize the presence of God in it all. For sure, the year ahead will find its own share of blessings and sorrows filling our hearts. But let’s pray that we come to the end of 2017 through His grace, in His peace, and held in His strong arms. Happy New Year.
